So since I'm hopelessly hooked on TMR and newtmas, I decided to write a fic. (more like I couldn't live without writing a newtmas fic because is there anything cuter than those two no there isn't but anyway)

It's been so long since I last wrote anything! This one's gonna be long, longer than anything else I've ever written. I have no idea how many chapters I'll write, but they'll probably all be about as long as this first one.

One more important thing: since I have both read the book and watched the movie, I couldn't really decide which one to follow - so I'm gonna make my own mix of the book and the movie. I also haven't read the book in English, so the Gladers' slang is kinda hard for me to write, but I'm gonna try to use it anyway.

I own nothing.

Enjoy (or don't, it's a free world)

CHAPTER 1

The first thing I become aware of is the nagging pain on the back of my skull.

The second thing is the at least dozen different pairs of eyes that stare me from the above. I stare back blindly, having absolutely zero idea what's happening.

"Welcome back, greenie," somebody laughs and couple others join in. My gaze shifts from one face to another, my brains slowly processing the fact that I'm lying on the ground and there's a group of boys standing around me.

"Nice faceplanting, bro," another voice says, the comment followed by agreeing hums and snickers.

My mouth hangs open but no words come out. The boys keep chattering and joking around me.

"Doesn't he know how to talk?" Somebody snarls, and another voice answers: "Maybe he doesn't remember how to talk!" They all crack into a laugh, and I get the weird feeling of not getting an inside joke.

Then one of the boys steps forward, and silences the rest of the group with a glare.

"Enough. You've all been in his place," he says. He then looks down at me and smiles, brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. His skin is dark and something in the way he's standing makes me think of him as some kind of a leader of this group. Other boys remain silent, but their eyes reveal that they're only being quiet because of respect, not because they don't find my situation funny. The dark boy offers me a hand, saying: "Come on, greenie, time to get up."

I'm still just as confused as I was when I first opened my eyes, but maybe it's the respect the other boys are showing him that make me trust him enough to grab the hand that's being offered to me. With his help I stand up, struggling to find balance with my slightly wobbly legs. I stare at the leader-boy, still not getting a word out of my mouth, but something in his eyes makes me think he knows what I'm going through.

"I'm Alby. Can you tell me anything about yourself?" He – Alby, apparently – asks me. I swallow nervously, afraid that my voice will betray me, and answer: "My name is Thomas-" and suddenly realize something I didn't realize before. Alby asks me whether I can tell him anything about myself, and apart from my name, I – I can't. I can't tell him anything because I don't remember anything.

"I…I, uh, I don't...I don't remember anything else," I stammer, trying to hide the panic in my voice, suddenly afraid I'm going to throw up or something. How can I not remember anything? I try to search my mind for anything really, but nothing comes up. I have no idea who I am or why I'm here.

Which instantly makes another question pop into my head.

"Where am I? What is this place?" I ask, immediately starting to make my way through the boys, not caring that I'm pretty much shoving everybody out of my way. I step out of the crowd, ignoring the protests I hear, finally taking a proper look at my surroundings.

There's green grass pretty much everywhere. On the right I can see a small gardening area, on the left there's some kind of structure made of probably wood. But all those things are something I barely register, because after approximately one and a half seconds I realize this whole area is surrounded by four walls.

Four, grey walls, each at least 250 feet tall, maybe more. I turn around and notice a huge gap in one of the walls, and it looks like some kind of a…doorway.

What the hell is this place?

"Whoa, there, greenie. Calm down, you look like you're about to pass out," Alby points out, placing his palm on my shoulder as a calming effect, and either he doesn't hear the snicker "again" or he just doesn't care about it.

"But wha- I mean, where…what-" I'm having a trouble finding my words, being a total stammering idiot and really not even caring about it, but luckily Alby seems to know what I'm thinking about.

"Okay, first, calm down, or you'll get thrown into the Stammer," Alby warns me, and even though I have absolutely zero idea what the 'Stammer' is, I decide to follow Alby's order. I close my eyes and take a deep breath – as if it'd really help, I just try to look like someone who's being absolutely calm. It works, the hard, bossy look in Alby's eyes softens and he nods.

"So…Thomas, right? Welcome to the Glade. That's what we call this place. Just like the rest of us, you don't remember anything from your previous life. You arrived here about…30 minutes ago with the box, freaked out when you saw us, tried to run but tripped and hit your head. Then you woke up and…now we're here."

Okay…so that explains the dull pain on the back of my skull, then.

Also, great first impression and all, Thomas. Just great.

"Box? What's that? Why am I here? What are you all doing here?" I can't help the flood of questions from coming. An exasperated frown forms to Alby's face, but I'm not really in the mood for feeling sorry for being annoying.

"The box is over there, go take a look if you want," He says, pointing into the direction I came from, and continues: "Now, enough with the questions. I have tons of things to do, Newt can explain the rest of it to you."

"But- "

"Slim it. Chuck?"

"Here!" A voice from behind us answers, and I turn around to see the young speaker. The boy looks really young compared to all the other faces I'm seeing, and he has curly brown hair that keeps falling over his eyes.

"Show Thomas the Homestead. And go find Newt, okay? He knows how to handle the newbies," Alby commands, and I'm trying really hard to ignore the way he calls me a newbie – which I guess I am, though. Chuck nods excitedly and rushes to my side, face gleaming with curiosity as he smiles at me.

"And everyone else, get back to work. The show's over," Alby orders, and after he walks away the crowd starts to slowly split up, their gazes still following me as they leave. I feel a tug on my sleeve, and turn to look at Chuck.

"Hi, I'm Chuck," he states, starting to walk towards the wooden structure. I nod, and answer: "Thomas," although he probably knows that already. Deciding it's wisest to listen to Alby, I start to follow Chuck.

"So…Chuck. What is this place?" I can't help asking. Chuck glances at me and shrugs. "It's the Glade. We all live here," he simply answers. I can't help feeling a little annoyed – okay maybe not just a little – by the fact nobody seems to want to tell me what's going on. I mean, I just arrived here like, minutes ago with a magical elevator straight from hell, suffered something that feels like a mild concussion - not that I know what a concussion feels like, let alone a mild one – and can't remember anything else than my own name. You'd think people would treat you a little nicer after that.

It's only when I hear Chuck smirk "We've all been there, you know," that I realize I've been muttering my thoughts out loud under my breath.

"Then why don't you tell me anything? If you all know exactly what it feels like to be me right now," I point out, desperately needing answers to my questions.

"Look, it's getting pretty late already, you should just wait for the morning. Alby's gonna take you to a tour then," Chuck answers, looking at me apologetically. I look at the sky, and indeed, it looks like the sun's about to set. We're almost at the wooden sculpture – or Homestead, according to what Alby said to Chuck. I'm not sure what to feel about the 'building'; it looks like it might collapse any second.

"This is where we sleep," Chuck tells me proudly, pointing at the Homestead. "Don't worry, it's a lot comfier on the inside," He quickly adds, noticing my hesitant look. I really don't feel like venturing inside the poorly built house, but when Chuck opens the door I don't have any other options than to follow him.

I have to admit; Chuck wasn't lying. It is a lot comfier on the inside. There are windows, but they're all covered with some kind of curtains, preventing the light from fully getting inside. The shimmers of light penetrating through the curtains create kind of a sleepy atmosphere to the room. There are at least thirty hammocks hanging from the ceiling, each hammock having slightly different kinds of pillows or covers in it. In the back of the room I can see a staircase leading upstairs.

Chuck starts making his way to the hammocks, his eyes clearly searching for something.

"Here, downstairs, we sleep. On the upstairs we have all the medical stuff and a couple of real beds instead of hammocks, too, if somebody gets seriously hurt. Clint and Jeff are the only med-jacks because they're the only ones who understand the medical stuff," he tells me, brown curls swinging from one side to another as he keeps turning his head while searching. Then, an excited "Here!" and he quickly motions me to follow him to one of the hammocks. It appears to be empty of covers and pillows, but definitely not brand-new; somebody clearly hasn't mind sleeping on it with shoes on.

I look at Chuck, unsure of what he wants me to do.

"This is yours now! You can sleep in it," he states and pats the hammock beside him, his hand's motion making a small puff of dust whirl to the air.

"Um..."

"C'mon, don't be such a shuckface; these hammocks are a lot cozier than what they look like, I promise. Of course, this one's a little dusty since it hasn't been used since-" but suddenly Chuck shuts up, a hesitant look in his eyes, as if he's afraid he's already said too much.

Which is ridiculous because he hasn't said anything important yet.

Man, this whole "let's keep everything as a secret from Thomas because he's the newbie and he freaked out and faceplanted in front of pretty much everyone" scenario is really getting old.

"I- I mean, it hasn't been used in a…in a while," Chuck stutters, gaze aimed to his feet.

"What do you mean, in a while? Whose bed is it?" But of course the only answer I get is a silent shrug before Chuck turns around and makes his way to the door.

Typical. Just typical.

The door slams after him, suddenly making him the only person inside the house. Or Homestead. Whatever. Loneliness sweeps over me like bucketful of ice cold water, making me realize – again – the whole situation I'm in right now.

Alone, without a single memory of my previous life, with a bunch of weirdos living a cozy farm-life, their world being surrounded by walls taller than Zeus' dick. What the hell am I doing here? Panic rises inside my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Then a thought hits me – the walls. And not only the walls; the doorway.

I'm getting the hell out of here.

I rush to the door, opening it and not seeing Chuck anywhere. Well, good. At least he won't try to stop me.

There are other people outside, naturally, but it looks like they're fully concentrating on their own stuff. At least that's what I hope. I'm a bit lost at first, not remembering the way I came from, but luckily the gap in the wall is not hard to find. I start walking, deciding running – even if it'd be faster – would only cause unwanted attention.

I can't help my curiosity as I walk towards the monstrous doorway. I let my gaze wander, checking my surroundings again. On my left there's the gardens again, and straight ahead of me I can see two areas surrounded by fences, with actual animals living within them. Pigs and cows. And is that a goat, tied to a pole?

Behind the fences is another building-like sculpture, and I don't care enough to guess what purpose it stands for. On my right side is a forest-y area.

The giant doorway is placed between the Homestead and the forest, so that's where I'm headed. I silently pray for anyone who happens to be listening not to let the other members of this crazed society to notice my leaving, and guess what? At first, they don't. I get closer and closer to the door, less than a hundred feet separating me from the freedom.

And then, out of nowhere, the deafening screeching starts.

The voice startles me, making me stop walking. Panic tightens its grip on me and I'm left to struggle inside my head between the urge to run and the need to hide. I turn my head around trying to understand what the source of the horrifying noise is, and then, when I glace the doorway again, I realize. It's the doorway.

Which is closing.

On its own.

I drop to my knees, not understanding what I'm seeing. The giant walls slide towards each other, making the gap smaller and smaller every passing second. I'm aware of chattering behind me, but being almost paralyzed with fear, I don't turn my head to see who it is. Then doors collide with each other, sending a breeze of cold air in my direction, and suddenly it's as quiet as in a grave.

"So, I see you found the maze, then," a voice says from my right side. I tear my gaze from the walls – now separating me totally from the outer world – and take a look to the speaker instead. The guy's staring at me, dark eyes glowing, mouth turned into a smile. Not a mocking smile, like the ones I saw when I woke up after hitting my head; not the shy and insecure smile that Chuck had; but also not like Alby's commanding "trust me" kind of smile. It's slightly curious and encouraging, but above all else – it's just a smile. A smile that makes me feel there's not any kind of pattern I must follow or any certain way to act to be worthy of that smile.

"Catching flies, mate?" He asks, which is when I realize my mouth hangs fully open from the shock of the closing doors. I close it, feeling embarrassed.

"I just…I, um…"

"Hey, relax. It's okay," he laughs, and then I'm being offered a hand for the second time this day. "Name's Newt, greenie. What's yours?"

I decide there's absolutely no point in refusing a friendly act, especially at this moment, and grab his hand. Also, to be telling the truth, there's something about him that makes me want to trust him. Newt hauls me up, and after swiping away the grasses from my pants, I answer: "Thomas."

Newt simply nods, pushing his hands to his pockets. Now that I'm standing, I notice he's actually a little shorter than me, and definitely smaller. Not in the small-and-chubby kind of way like Chuck, but in a yes-I'm-small-but-I-could-kill-you-with-one-punch kind of way. He's skinny, but muscular; slim, but powerful. At least that's the impression I get, for some reason.

Newt ruffles his blonde hair, still staring at me.

"You weren't really planning about running to the maze, were you, greenie?" Newt asks me, his face already revealing that he knows the answer.

"I…I was just- wait, what?" I interrupt myself, realizing the word Newt's been using. "The Maze?"

Newt frowns. "Oh. So you don't know about it yet. Right," He sighs, rolling his eyes. "I don't get why they always have to act so bloody mysterious. Not like we haven't all been in your place."

That's when I realize he has a strange accent. A weird one, but I haven't decided whether it's a good-weird or a bad-weird yet.

"You're a shy one, then? Weird, they told we got a whiner again," Newt says after waiting a while for my answer. The choice of words immediately catches my full attention.

"A whiner? What the heck? I was just trying to get some friggin' answers!" I defend myself. Newt raises both his hands as a gesture of peace.

"Chill, Tommy, I was just quoting what they said. I think they're being bloody ridiculous every now and then. Anyway, you must be hungry, I guess you haven't eaten since you came, and we can't really tell when was the last time you ate on your previous life, can we now," Newt looks at me, the same smile back on his lips. He nods his head to the direction of the Homestead, mouthing 'come', and starts walking.

"Wait, so, so…where are we? And I swear to God if I hear the answer 'Glade' once more I'm gonna-"

"Calm down," Newt laughs, "I won't say the-thing-you-don't-want-me-to-say." He takes a couple of seconds to think while we're walking, and starts to explain.

"This is…our home, where we live. By 'we' I mean me and 23 other boys – well, 24, if you're being counted, too. We've all arrived here the same way you did; inside the Box, with no memories from our past, apart from our names." Newt takes a pause, checks if I'm still with him. I nod, gesturing him to continue. Finally I'm getting answers.

"We get a new greenie every month, as well as some new supplies. Clothes, soap, medicine…simple things. And before you ask; no, we have no idea who's done this to all of us. We learn to cope with our lost memories, and start making new ones here. We build our stuff, grow our food and take care of...this place. Everybody has their own work to do, and we're gonna find one for you, too."

We're almost at the Homestead now, and I see a building behind it that I didn't notice before. I see some smoke coming from the…um, it can't actually be called a smokestack since it's more like just a hole in the roof, but I'm guessing this must be the place we're going to.

"So…what's on the outside, then?" I ask, not taking my eyes off the building. It's hard to try to understand but I'm doing my best.

Newt sighs deeply, taking his time before answering: "The Maze. It's…it's pretty hard to explain, really. The only thing you need to know right now is that these walls are here to protect us. Which actually brings me into the first rule; never, ever go into the Maze. Ever."

"Protecting us? From what? What do you mean?"

"I'll explain it to you, but not right now. Now, we eat," and it's only when we step inside the building behind the Homestead and are greeted with the delicious smell of food that I realize I'm actually friggin' starving.

There are tables, chairs, a door leading to what I can only assume is a kitchen, and a desk with some empty bowls on it. Some people are sitting on the chairs, eating something soup-like and chattering together. They all grow silent when Newt and I step inside, not even trying to hide their curious staring.

"Yo, it's the faceplanter-greenie!" I hear somebody yell, and couple other voices join the laugh.

"C'mon, shut it, you shanks," Newt commands, but I can see he's smiling. He makes his way towards the desk, eyeing the empty bowls. Then he yells "Fry!" and after a couple seconds a guy with a white apron comes out of the kitchen. He takes a look at the empty bowls, sighing deeply.

"Of course these fat-asses already emptied every bowl. Newt, you know better than to come late," he says, looking at Newt with a sympathetic look on his face. He then seems to realize that I'm also standing there, and the smile that rises to his face is playful.

"Oh, I see. You caught the new greenie, didn't ya."

Newt huffs, motioning the other boy to drop the subject.

"Fry, this is Tommy. Tommy – Frypan," he introduces me to the other boy.

"Thomas," I quickly correct him, and Frypan nods, measuring me with his looks.

"Sure. Let me guess – you want something to eat?" Although he's still staring at me, the question is obviously directed to Newt. He shrugs.

"You know me, buddy. And Tommy here needs some meat on his bones, before his growling stomach wakes the Grievers," Newt chuckles, and my stomach makes the perfect timing to growl right after his comment.

"For Gods sakes," Frypan sighs deeply, "follow me, you slintheads. And make sure this is the last time."

We follow Frypan – what the heck kind of a name is Frypan anyway? – to the kitchen, where he stacks a dozen sandwiches to a plate. Looks like it's not the first time somebody comes begging for more food afterhours.

Newt takes the plate offered to him with a huge smile on his face, thanks Frypan and leads me back to the dining tables. He picks an empty table and sits down, and I pick the chair next to him.

"Frypan's our cook. Adam and Frankie help him in the kitchen, but I think they mostly do the dishes and stuff. Fry's the only one who knows how to make food, he's bloody great cook," Newt explains to me while munching a sandwich, and I take one, too. "Don't tell him I said that, though."

"So…Why can't I go to the Maze? What's in there?" I ask and take a bite myself. Wow, since when has a sandwich tasted this good? I wolf it down with just a couple bites and immediately grab another one. Newt smirks when he sees how hungry I am.

"I told you, I'll explain it to you later. The Maze is…huge. We've been here for two years, and we still haven't found anything from the Maze, but we'll keep searching. There has to be a way out somewhere."

"But…so you've been there? In the Maze? But you just told me never to go there," I point out, emptying my mouth of another sandwich. Good God these are tasty.

"Well, you can't, obviously. But the Runners can."

"Runners?"

"Yeah. Like I told you, we all have our own stuff to do here. There's Builders, Slicers, Sloppers, and so on, and then there's Runners. They're the only ones who get to go to the Maze. They leave at sunrise, spend the whole day running through the Maze, mapping the area, and return before sunset."

I gulp down my third sandwich, and reach to my fourth one. Newt raises his eyebrows amusedly as he finishes his first sandwich. "What? I'm hungry," I mumble defensively, and Newt simply chuckles.

"Yo, Newt! Who's the new shank?"

We both turn our heads to see the speaker. He looks like he's Asian, with pitch black hair and brown eyes, and he's covered in sweat. Newt motions him to sit down, and he chooses the chair on the other side of our table. Without asking he grabs one of the sandwich and starts to munch, while giving Newt the questionable look.

"I'm Thomas," I answer, before Newt has a chance to introduce me as 'Tommy' again. The Asian boy looks at me and nods.

"Minho here's actually one of the Runners. Like you can see from his charming looks, he just came from the Maze," Newt says with a grin as he looks at Minho's sweaty appearance.

Minho gives him the finger, and keeps eating in silence. Although I've never seen him before, I can see he's exhausted. Who wouldn't be, after spending the whole day running in a maze?

It's when the thought of spending a day in the maze hits me that I realize I want to be a Runner, too. It's depressing, knowing that they've been searching for a way out for two friggin' years, but for some reason I just know I have to do it. No matter the horrible things Newt keeps telling me there is, I know nothing can be terrifying enough to keep me out of the Maze.

I decide not to tell Newt and Minho about my decision yet – they'd think I'm suicidal. Or willing to try escaping again, which I'm not, not anymore. It has something to do with Newt being so damn calm and collected, and he and Minho giving each other shit like they're not trapped inside an enormous Maze and forced to play farmers from day to day. Something about them makes me want to belong here, too.

Then Minho tells Newt he has a gift for him, his hand disappearing in his pocket, and coming out of it with his right fist closed. The dark haired boy orders Newt to close his eyes, which he doesn't, apparently knowing his friend well enough. Minho smirks evilly, his opening fist revealing a huge, wiggling centipede – how can it still be alive after being inside a damn pocket – and Newt yelps and jumps off his chair, backing a couple steps from us.

He curses loudly, calling Minho with a dozen different names, including "you bloody piece of klunk I hope you choke in your tongue in your sleep", and I can't help but laugh.

And his weird accent? Definitely a good-weird.

END OF CHAPTER 1

Ta-da!

I know this first chapter was kinda lame since nothing really important happened, but I just felt like I had to end it somewhere. I should also warn you guys that I don't know how to keep chapters short so you might as well get used to the fact things are gonna go slow.

Also, have no mercy! Beat me up and let me know what's good and what's bad. Especially the bad ones!

And a huuuuge thanks to fixusi for betaing, you're the best VIP person! :*